


High Gloss

by angelgazing



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Early Days, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-11
Updated: 2010-02-11
Packaged: 2017-10-07 04:14:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelgazing/pseuds/angelgazing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Early days, Pete and his jealousy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	High Gloss

"Here's the thing," Patrick says, breathlessly, fingers wrapped around Pete's wrists, mouth swollen, eyes wide, color high on his cheeks. "Pete." He laughs, bright, and young and cheerful.

Pete swallows, laughs right along, and follows his eyes to the left, to the right, watches her wrap a curl between her fingers instead of watching Patrick watch. There are things that hurt and things that _hurt_, and Pete's never been the best at telling the difference, but he's got his moments, sometimes. "Well," he says, and laughs, again, like he's in on the joke.

Patrick's grinning wide, still, for the first time in a while, because it's too long into this tour, too many days spent in each other's company, nights spent shoved together with all their limbs and cooling sweat into a van they can't escape, and summer is coming to a close now, and everything is just closing in. They're half a step away from an explosion, anywhere they stand.

He can't take a stroll without walking through a minefield, armor not included.

Pete twists his wrists, turns the tables, and holds on tight, Patrick's pulse quick against his fingertips. He doesn't ask her name cause he doesn't want to learn it.

And the thing, Pete wants to say, wants to scream at the top of his lungs, is he scribbled pieces of another broken love song on a napkin with her lipstick just before the sun went down, watching Patrick sing Sinatra songs with his back against the wall, hoping to catch a breeze through the bricks.

He laughs, again, like he wrote the joke, wraps one hand around the back of Patrick's neck, presses their foreheads together and says, "Oh, man, you are so fucking golden," and hopes he gets it, this time. "You're just _it_, Trick."


End file.
